Brotherly Love
by The Doc of Hearts
Summary: A king. His brother. The struggling relationship has its ups and downs. But the king doesn't want it this way. He wants a better relationship with his troubled brother. Now as the king has been attacked, he struggles even more to try and combat his brother's obstinate behavior. Can they work it out and put everything behind them? Or will the king have to make a troubling decision?
1. Blinded By Anger

"Merriweather you're not listening to me!" He shouted.

He threw his brother off, keeping his grip on the sword he now had in his bloody hand. It had sliced his skin, but that was the least of his worries.

"No Mornstein! You're not listening to me!" His brother yelled.

"What has gotten into you Merriweather!?" Mornstein roared.

Merriweather tightly clasped the handle of the blade. His face was flushed red with anger.

"Answer me Merriweather! Or I swear under the kingdom's name I will not regret my decisions!" Mornstein said.

"He loves you more than anybody! You were always his favorite! He couldn't care less about Meadowlark and I! You always got his attention! Always!" Merriweather shrieked, the pitch of his voice continuing to rise.

With what tone he had, his voice could've woke the dead. Their servants were helplessly watching the king and his brother. They could do nothing more than observe. Now, before we get anything wrong, Mornstein loved his brother, as he loved all of his family equally. But his brother was different. Merriweather felt that he didn't have a stable relationship with their father, the former king of Meridia, before he left to aid a neighboring kingdom. But, something kept tugging at him. Feeding him these words, saying that his father didn't have the capacity in his heart to allow another person in. It fueled his aggravated spirit.

His hand felt numb, the tighter he clenched the blade. He wasn't going to give up this easily. It was in his nature, as he had the irrational propensity for doing these things. He despised his brother's reputation, being the eldest of the three of the royal siblings. It gave him the title of heir to the throne. But Merriweather couldn't understand it at that time when his brother was crowned. The coronation. The dancing. The conversations. All of it flooded back to him. And he charged, sword held high and eyes burning.

Mornstein made no hesitation of holding his own up to deflect what was coming. His brother's blade collided with his own.

"Is that what this is about Merriweather? Because you have a jealousy towards me? He loved us equally! You know it, I know it, Meadowlark knows it! All of Meridia knows it!" Mornstein said. "But yet you act oblivious to it. You and you're obstinate attitude towards everything! This is not how I wanted this to be settled, but you leave me no choice..."

And with that he went to an offense. His brother couldn't match his movements. He struggled with swordsmanship. But Mornstein, could put an expert to shame. The king knew well enough, that as a prince, he could have wasted no time with his practices or lessons. His father taught him how to wield a blade. His uncle did too. So did his grandfather. He had gotten to the point where, at the still maturing age of fourteen, he not only unarmed his father, but had slit his hand with the sword.

Now he was putting it back into use.

His brother got an upper hand suddenly, and swung at him, cutting the flesh on his cheek open. His crown hit the dry dirt as Mornstein staggered and put a hand over his cheek, the fresh, stinging sensation of oxygen flooding into the vulnerable cut. But he made no plans on it distracting him.

"You've been learning...but it does you no good..." Mornstein murmured.

Merriweather, blinded by his agitated mindset, did not take heed to those words, but instead ran at his brother again. Mornstein grabbed the blade, not concerned with the now burning, gushing gash on his other hand. Merriweather's eyes widened, and Mornstein took the chance to unarm his brother and kick him back. He took in his breaths heavily and glared down at his brother, his stare now intimidating. Merriweather shrunk back, not a single scratch scathed his delicate flesh and fur. Mornstein dropped both blades. And then, his with suddenly stumbling but not easily noticeable gait, stepped towards his brother, and held out a bloody yet gentle hand.

"Give me your hand Merriweather," he said calmly. "Now."

Merriweather swallowed hard, and hesitantly did as his brother commanded. He was still angered, but it was put at ease for the time being. Mornstein pulled him up, not paying mind to the pain he was putting his hand through. He did wince a bit though, as it took a while before it finally got to him. Merriweather made sure to be careful with his brother's tender hand. He let go, with Mornstein's blood now on his glove. He was ready for whatever belted yelling and lecturing conversation he was expecting to get. But it never came. Mornstein put a warm hand on Merriweather's shoulder, causing him to look up at his brother's relaxed eyes.

"I don't want this to happen between us again, alright? This is not how we were raised Merriweather," Mornstein uttered gently.

Merriweather bent his head down and rubbed his heel in the dirt, now suddenly feeling a flooding sense of shamefulness running over his troubled mind. Mornstein pulled him in, and held him lovingly. Merriweather was taken back by the soft gesture. But he accepted it and in a strained voice, gave his apologies. Mornstein hushed him.

"There, there Merriweather...everything is alright," Mornstein said softly.

Merriweather bit his bottom lip, and then went to nestle his face into Mornstein's shoulder.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm sorry..." he murmured repeatedly.

"It's okay, it's okay," said Mornstein.

He then felt dizzy, and leaned against his brother, his eyes dull.

"I need Archimedes," he said slowly.

Merriweather nodded, and made his way for the castle. And then, once inside, went for the library.


	2. Somber Scratches

Books. Filled with pages and pages of chapters. Some of these said books, which Mornstein had read a select few of them, were suspended in the air. The room seemed empty of any psychical life, but Merriweather knew someone was in there.

"Archimedes?" He called.

"I'm up here Merriweather," a voice said back.

He looked up to the ceiling to find the, sorcerer as they called him, sitting on one of the large chandeliers. He spent most of his time in the library, rearranging shelves and taking count of how many books were currently in the library. His phoenix, Dota, was calmly perched next to him, her large wings folded back. She was the only animal in the castle, as Mornstein was allergic to dogs, and Merriweather, to cats. Dota cocked her head. Archimedes whistled and Dota became alert. Archimedes then proceeded to jump off the chandelier. Dota latched onto his back and spread her wings, making Archimedes look as if they were his own wings. She let go when he was almost completely down and he landed perfectly safe and sound with a small thud against the padded carpet floor.

"What are you needing Merriweather?" He asked calmly.

He then noticed Mornstein's condition and, by instinct, his ears raised.

"We, got into a bit of a fight. It's just his cheek and both of his hands," Merriweather said quietly.

"Come again? I didn't quite catch that. You were talking too low," Archimedes said, taking Mornstein, who then dropped his weight against the sorcerer.

Merriweather sighed before speaking again.

"We got into a sword fight..." Merriweather muttered in a desolate tone.

"It's fine Merriweather," Mornstein uttered. "Both my hands are my own fault."

"You boys make me worry sometimes, you know?" Archimedes said solemnly.

Merriweather's ears folded back. He looked at his brother's face, which at the time was wearing a weary look. The blood loss had done it to him. Archimedes had Mornstein sit down so he could start on his hands. His cheek would be no problem. Mornstein's eyes sunk to the floor, their dullness in color making Merriweather uneasy. Archimedes had him pull his gloves off so that they would not be in the way. Mornstein had assumed he would've used some sort of magic to fix everything. Archimedes, having seem his fair share of blood and lacerations, paid no mind to the sight. Though, Merriweather had pulled a hand towards his mouth, and Mornstein, kept his eyes off his hands and resumed looking at the carpet.

"Your physiognomy worries me brother," Merriweather said, again in a desolate tone.

"Hm...?" Mornstein was paying very little attention, as his concentration was for the moment blurred.

"Your expression is a bit uneasy Mornstein," Archimedes said.

"I can assume so," Mornstein muttered drearily.

He then winced as Archimedes ran a finger over one of his lacerated hands.

"How tight of a grip did you have on that blade?" Archimedes asked with a somber voice.

"Pretty damn tight," Merriweather murmured.

Mornstein hadn't thought he had gripped the sword that tightly. Then again, he couldn't really remember. It was hazy in his mind. But he knew he grabbed it. His other hand though, was from catching his own sword at the wrong end. He may have been a good swordsman, but at the time, he was too blinded to bother catching it correctly. And it was besides the point. What was on his mind had nothing to do with what they were talking about now. And he wouldn't bring it up. It would be a more private manner with Archimedes later.

"I didn't know I had seized it that tightly," Mornstein uttered.

It didn't seem important to him. But he assumed it was to Archimedes, as he had continued to just, stare at it.

"Is something wrong Archimedes?" He asked quietly.

Archimedes sighed, and with a small gesture, beckoned Dota to his side. Merriweather, knowing what Archimedes would do, calmly shifted his back against the wall, his arms folded. He knew that, Dota being a phoenix, could easily heal Mornstein's wounds, with tears. He also knew that Dota was emotionally attached to Mornstein, as she was to every individual in the castle. Mornstein quietly placed his hand on her head, which then made its way under her beak. She nuzzled his hand gently, knowing of his injuries.

"Hey..." he said quietly.

Dota looked at him, and without hesitation, started up. Mornstein stayed quiet, and continued to rub her face. He sighed heavily, starting to regret his decision to fight back. But he figured he had no other choices. He looked up slightly, catching his brother's attention. Merriweather stayed quiet though. He didn't want to risk the start of another conflict. It wasn't needed. Mornstein looked at his hands after Dota had stopped. His cheek was well dry, the blood covering his cheek almost completely. Archimedes had cleaned it up, and then looked at the cut itself.

"Looks a bit more like a bad paper cut," he said.

"I swung pretty quickly," Merriweather murmured.

Mornstein rubbed his hand against his cheek, and as he did, a somber look spread across his face. Merriweather took warning to it.

And chose to leave.


	3. King's Decision

"I just don't understand it Archimedes," Mornstein uttered quietly, rubbing his hands. "He was such a good kid until he left, and now he's taking it out on me."

The sorcerer, knowing well of the brothers' issues, drew in a breath, and proceeded to let it out slowly. He didn't like the current issue with the brothers, Mornstein at the current age of twenty-seven, with his brother behind him at the, seemingly childish, age of twenty-three. Archimedes knew well though, that their age difference wasn't there biggest reason for this conflict. It was Merriweather's bullheadedness. Mornstein was a very levelheaded, laid back man. But this had bothered him.

"Am I really the reason for this?" Mornstein said somberly.

"Now, now Mornstein, don't blame yourself for your brother's actions," the sorcerer said.

Mornstein sighed and, with a small hesitation, looked up at Archimedes.

"What do I do?" He looked back down.

"The best thing to do is to settle things with him in a peaceful manner," Archimedes murmured softly.

"I feel like it is too much to ask of him. Have I done wrong? Why must it always be like this with him, even when it doesn't seem like anything is a struggle between us," Mornstein uttered. "Merriweather's mindset is that father didn't love him and Meadowlark as much he loved me."

"Then change his perspective on the matter. There's really nothing more you can do for him Mornstein. But, your father will come back. I know it," Archimedes said gently.

Mornstein never believed this. In his mind, his thoughts had told him that his father was dead, or perhaps, didn't want to come back to Meridia. He gave his father a promise. That he'd protect and provide for this kingdom, for as long as he was the Meridian king. That he wouldn't be selfish and greedy of his power. That he wouldn't be a cruel and heartless king. But now, he had a decision to make.

"You need to settle this with him Mornstein," Archimedes started, "or he may never be himself again when your father comes back. He loves you, you're his role model. His brother. The king. He needs you, but you need him to understand that. Brothers like you, shouldn't have conflicts like this." He continued. "Violence isn't going to solve this problem between you two. What would your father think if he saw this behavior from you two? What would your boys think if they saw their dad and uncle fighting with blades?"

Mornstein sighed softly.

"You're right...if dad saw this, god he'd be so disappointed with us. The boys would think of me differently," he muttered.

"Go find him," Archimedes said. "And talk to him about this. If I have to, I will have Dota follow you and keep a careful eye on the both of you. Understand?"

Mornstein nodded and, with a hesitant thought, stood himself up, and proceeded to the door. He had soon realized, that his crown was still in the courtyard dirt. He directed himself outside, and went to pick up his jeweled symbol of kingship. He dusted it off and perched it back on his head, where it belonged during the hours of daylight. He sighed heavily, and turned to go back inside. But he had a strange feeling come over him, telling him to stay put. He looked down at the grass and rubbed his heel in it. It was a different feeling. As if he didn't want to fix things between them. But he had to, whether his mind liked it or not. He cursed under his breath, and strode to the castle doors. The big, wooden, jeweled doors. He felt compelled, to one day, strip the castle of its doors, and let the people raid him. But he wouldn't do that. It was only in his troubled mind. The thought made him disgusted with himself.

Once inside again, he felt the need to go into his study, and just sit, and think. So he did. His head was pounding, for reasons he couldn't think of. He laid it on his folded arms, face down, causing his crown to slide off his head, and onto the desk. It made a small metallic sound upon making contact with the polished wood. He heard his study door creak, and raised his ears. Small hands, hidden under white gloves, wrapped themselves around the door. Where they clasped the door could only be at the height of a child. Now, there were only three children in this castle. The princes. Mornstein's sons. His eldest, Zander, who they rarely ever called Alexander, was eight. Behind him was Casimir, who closely resembled color with that of Mornstein's father. He was six at this current time. Their youngest prince, Sirius, was an age of five. He more resembled Mornstein. Zander resembled his mother's fur color, that of a light blue shade. Zander and Sirius, had gotten their father's family birthmark. Casimir however, did not. Like Merriweather, both sides of their face bore no mark on their cheeks. Mornstein looked up, to see his eldest standing at the door.

"Daddy?" He said.

The boy was ill, and knowing his father was in distress, he didn't want to rest.

"Zander, you're supposed to be laying down," Mornstein said.

Zander went over to him, and got in his lap.

"But I don't want to," Zander said. "I want to know why Uncle Merriweather is crying father."

"I was not aware of him crying Zander. How long as he been doing this?" Mornstein asked the boy.

"Not very long," the kid said then noticing his father's cheek. "Daddy? What's that?"

Mornstein drew his hand to his cheek, and sighed. He didn't want to tell the young prince what had happened between him and his brother, but he could not keep it from the boy.

"Well Zander," his dad started. "Merriweather and I got into a bit of a sword fight."


	4. Sobbing Regret

Mornstein picked Zander up off his lap, and went out of his study. Zander was now curious about what happened between his dad and uncle. Mornstein had tried to explain to the kid simply, but Zander would not take it for an answer.

"Father? What happened? Why do you have that cut on your face?" Zander repeated.

Mornstein drew in a breath and sighed. He knew the boy would continue to be persistent, as he always was. Zander watched his dad curiously, and put a hand to his cheek. Mornstein looked down at the boy, and smiled a bit.

"We'll talk about it later, alright?" He said.

Zander nodded and smiled back. Mornstein set him down and stood back up.

"Why don't you go look for your brothers. And Ciel," Mornstein said.

Zander ran off to do so. Mornstein proceeded to walk to his brother's room, as he wanted to cease Merriweather's sobbing. He sighed softly, and rubbed his cheek, the stinging receding, but still present. He murmured under his breath, and put his hand back down. But his hand did not go back to his side. It went to his chest. He stopped for a moment, and just stood in the hallway, taken back by his own gesture. He knew what he was touching, and pulled his hand away to avoid any troubling thoughts. He set his mind strictly back onto Merriweather, knowing that if he kept his hand across his chest it would make him think and think and think. About things he did not want to trouble himself with.

He started walking again, his gait back to a normal stride. His hands still hurt, as he just noticed. He rubbed them, and felt as if the lacerations were still there. He started to feel stupid for grabbing the sword like that. But he had no other choices, or so he had thought at the time. Merriweather's actions were not the cause of it. Only Mornstein's cheek. That was it. Mornstein did not blame his brother for what had happened. And he didn't blame himself. It was just...he didn't know. Typical? No, brother's don't slash swords at each other on a daily basis. This was the first time Merriweather ever swung a sword at his beloved brother. Mornstein could hear his brother now. He sighed again, slowly progressed to the door, and knocked.

"Go away..." Merriweather muttered in a strained voice.

"Merriweather," Mornstein said calmly.

Merriweather stayed silent, though his tears were not suppressed, and he soon burst again.

"God, bullet hell!" He yelled.

Mornstein sighed, as he knew his brother was mad with himself. Bullet hell never came from Merriweather's mouth, unless he was ticked, and then he would say it like it was saying 'hello' to someone. Mornstein assumed the door was probably locked, or at least, barricaded by a shelf or something. Knowing his brother, he'd do just that. Mornstein pushed the door, and it opened. He was taken back by this, but thought none of it. He slowly walked in, his brother sitting in his bed, knees to his chest, pillow in arms. Merriweather's face was a brighter than day red, his eyes puffy and burning. Mornstein let out another sigh, and proceeded to his side. He sat down by him, Merriweather having his face buried in his pillow. He muttered bullet hell again, and shifted.

"It's not your fault Merriweather," Mornstein said in a soft voice.

Merriweather looked up slightly at his brother, with a distraught look on his face. He was still irritated with himself. Mornstein shook his head and looked down.

"You did nothing wrong Merriweather," Mornstein said, still calm.

Merriweather hiccupped, and clenched his pillow, hiccupping again. Merriweather could not believe how his brother was so calm, and not upset with him about what happened and he did. He raised and uproar about something so damn stupid! And his brother, the king, didn't care? He couldn't wrap his mind around it. It was making his head ache and throb. Merriweather sighed, annoyed, if he was to be honest with himself. Mornstein could sense it and his face grew stern.

"Obstinacy never helped anyone Merriweather," Mornstein said.

Merriweather, eyes burning again, began to avoid eye contact as he was before. He was trying so forcefully to contain himself. But it wasn't working. They started to slide down his face again. He burst back into complete tears and was suddenly under Mornstein's arm with his face in his chest. Mornstein was taken back. But, he shoved all else aside, and went to cease his brother's aching wailing.

"Hey, it's alright," Mornstein sighed.

Merriweather wouldn't take it, and buried his face in Mornstein's shoulder now. His face burned, so bad Mornstein thought he could feel it. Mornstein's shoulder was starting to dampen, but between cleanliness and comfort, he opted more for comfort. He could care less about his fur. He stroked Merriweather's quills, talking softly and calmly, trying to pacify his brother. Merriweather continued to wail and shake, as if he was just born and taking his first breath. He ached badly, but not in any psychical pain. It was a brotherly pain. Mornstein went to his desperate measures, and started to purr. Merriweather grasped him tightly and hiccupped. Mornstein continued to purr, until Merriweather was mollified.

"Are you okay now?" Mornstein asked.

Merriweather nodded, and hiccupped again, rubbing his eyes. Mornstein rubbed his back and then his face. Merriweather looked at his cheek and his ears bent. Mornstein's ears raised.

"Don't worry about it," Mornstein said.

Merriweather looked down, and nuzzled into his brother's chest, nudging the necklace around Mornstein's neck. Mornstein's eyes widened slightly, but he pushed it aside. The symbol is was, meant so much to the brothers and their sister. But Mornstein had the symbol. The necklace. Because he was the oldest.

And Merriweather looked at it.


	5. The King's Brother

Merriweather had long since calmed down. His eyes were still puffy, and very red. Mornstein had discontinued his purring, knowing that his brother was pacified. Now, we can take this opportunity, to explain a bit about Merriweather.

Merriweather was the second born to Lord Socrates and Lady Elizabeth. He was born around the time Mornstein was four. He more resembled his father's colors, but his eyes were a slight in between, blue-green shade of both his mother and father. Merriweather was the second prince of Meridia, growing fast in the Meridian royal family customs, but knew his fate was not that of a throne. But he did know he was to take Mornstein's position if something happened to the eldest prince of Meridia. He watched Mornstein carefully on a daily basis, to assure that nothing would happen to his beloved brother. This was around when he was three or four. Their sister, Meadowlark, was a young tot at this time, as she had been born when Merriweather's age was that of two. Merriweather swore to protect his baby sister, even if he was only four. Mornstein, being seven at that current time, decided to do the same.

Merriweather's allergy to cats came about at this age, as it was discovered after he had been scratched by one. He had pulled it's tail, something he quickly learned not to do anymore. It was at the same age as when Mornstein discovered his allergic reaction to dogs. Socrates had rushed Merriweather to Archimedes, should informed Socrates and Elizabeth of their child's allergies. They had done the same with Mornstein.

Merriweather had then grown ill. He would constantly sneeze and cough and hack, no matter what they tried to do to help the poor prince. That was when Mornstein's relationship with him grew very strong and protective. He wouldn't let anyone touch Merriweather unless they were his mom, father, the nurse, Daisuke or Archimedes. At the time Archimedes was known as "Arch" by the princes and princess. Archimedes would go in Merriweather's room daily to check on him. Merriweather had started to get progressively better all of a sudden. His temperature was dropping back down to a stable temp. Then medications were working and he was soon back on his feet.

Merriweather's growth and development progressed exceptionally well, Socrates and his brother, Daisuke, watching carefully, with Mornstein doing the same. The young prince had started having troubles in his teachings, catching his father's attention. Socrates sat down with the boy, and discussed his troubles. Merriweather, having been taught to be honest, told his father that he was having difficulties learning and concentrating, as his mind was on what would happen if any impending doom were to strike his brother. Socrates told the young prince he did not have to worry, and that his brother would make to the rightful age of kingship. Merriweather nodded and shoved it away. He almost completely forgot about it.

At a still growing age of just turning twelve, his father had to leave, to aid another kingdom. Merriweather didn't feel their relationship was as strong as Socrates's relationship with Mornstein. Merriweather hugged him tight and kept saying things over and over, surprisingly overwhelming the king. Mornstein, was fourteen at the time. He was almost of age and his father wanted more than to be there with his brother and sister and mother when he was crowned at the coronation. Sadly, Merriweather, Meadowlark and their mother Elizabeth sat alone and watched as the eldest prince of Meridia was crowned as the king of Meridia.

Now, to the current day, Merriweather was twenty-three. He was a bullheaded, stubborn man, with a soft spot for his nephews and brother. He connected well with the middle child, Casimir, as the prince was struggling the same way Merriweather did. Merriweather had a bad case of separation anxiety whenever Mornstein would leave, and he would become very bipolar and obstinate with people, until Mornstein's return. He still cried himself to sleep some nights, but it was silent crying, as he did not want anyone to wake and find him. But Mornstein would find him that way sometimes, as he would when they were teenagers, and would mollify him back to sleep.

And at this moment, Merriweather, face still burning, curled up feebly in his brother's arms, felt he had done the worst thing he could've, today. But Mornstein continued to tell him it wasn't his fault. Merriweather found it hard to believe, but he accepted it for the sole fact that his brother wouldn't let up on it. So he sighed, wrapped his arms around his brother's waist, and scrapped the thought from his mind. Merriweather needed to talk with him, and maybe Daisuke. Because he knew some ways to take care of this mess. Archimedes did too, but Merriweather wouldn't talk to him right now.

But he needed to talk. To his brother. But it was in his propensity to be abnormally quiet during these times. Especially if it was a major screw up, and of he blamed himself for said screw up. But he needed to change that. Fast. And now.


	6. The King Himself

Mornstein knew well that Merriweather wasn't going to let go anytime soon. His brother was just that way since he got horribly sick as a kid. But his messenger was to be entering Meridia soon, as he was always on the dot. But before that, let's get to learn about Mornstein.

Mornstein was firstborn to Lord Socrates and Lady Elizabeth twenty-seven years ago. He was heir to the throne. A lot of folk in the village had suspicions that Elizabeth had an affair with another man, which was why Mornstein bore the black and blue color in his fur. But that was quickly debunked as they learned Mornstein bore the same eye color as Socrates. Lord Socrates was the only man in the kingdom with a unique teal shade. Mornstein may not have looked like any of the royal family, but he was their blood.

He had horrible colic as a baby but the nurse took care of him whenever it would happened. It eventually diminished within a month. He would never go an hour without wanting to eat, unless he was dead asleep. Sometimes he would be in bed with his mother and father, curled up next to Socrates's face. At the age of eight months he would hide under his father's cloak. He grew quickly, soon turning to the age of one. At this time he was now trying to wear his father's crown. He caught on quickly to his fate of heir to the throne. Mornstein was eager even though he was only one.

When Mornstein was almost four, his mother was with child. Mornstein was more than excited to have a sibling. Socrates explained to the boy that he would have to pay a bit more attention to the new baby, but Mornstein understood. Archimedes was soon able to tell them the gender of the baby. Being a sorcerer had its perks for the older hedgehog. A new prince was to be born. They named him Merriweather after an old companion Socrates had lost. Mornstein was happy to have a baby brother.

A month after Mornstein turned four Merriweather was born. Mornstein was excited to have a baby in the castle. Mornstein wanted to help as much as he could with Merriweather. He would hold him, feed him, play with him, all with adult supervision. Merriweather had worse colic than Mornstein, but Mornstein knew what is was. He let the nurse deal with it. When Mornstein couldn't help with Merriweather he would go and play with one of the servants or chase Archimedes phoenix, Dota around the library while Archimedes would alphabetize shelves. If Archimedes missed a book, Mornstein would quickly take it to him.

Mornstein started his practices as soon as he turned six, Daisuke, Archimedes and his parents teaching him expectations and proper manner. He caught on quickly to the Meridian customs. Except for a bit of patience. But that was nipped quickly.

Mornstein quickly grew into a fine young man, he was only fourteen though. He had a sister that was eleven at this time now. He was starting to grow into a more curious and levelheaded man, the laid back trait slowly kicking in. He grew depressed as his father told him he had to aid a fellow kingdom. The poor boy overwhelmed his father, begging him not to leave. Sadly nothing could be done to keep Socrates from leaving. Not even Socrates himself could keep himself there. He promised to make it back for coronation day. But it never happened. Mornstein wallowed in his sorrow until his coronation. But he soon sunk back into it. He would sit in his study for hours moping with his head on the desk. His uncle Daisuke would go in to talk with him until Mornstein would go to lay down.

Mornstein soon found it troubling that he needed to bring up an heir to the throne. He wasn't even married. He didn't even know a neighboring kingdom that had a daughter ready to find a husband. It made him nervous, very nervous. He knew he had to bring up a son. But he seemed to have forgotten all his customs when it came to the ball. This would be his opportunity, but he was too nervous to come out into the ballroom. He paced back and forth in his room, stopping, staring in the mirror, pacing, stopping, staring. Daisuke soon went in to calm the poor boy, knowing he was racked in worried contemplation.

Mornstein soon found the ability to walk out of his room, and into the ballroom. He walked aimlessly around, trying to keep from chewing his fingers. He kept fidgeting. Until he ran into an azure female. Crowns fell and they stared at each other. Mornstein was humiliated, the azure lady feeling the same. Both of them red in the face, went down, and picked up the opposite crown. They handed each others crowns back, Mornstein's face burning. He apologized, but something in his mind clicked. She had to be the one. He had seen the other women, but they didn't seem right. But this lady, would be his queen.

They had hit it off immediately, talking on and on. They went out to the balcony, Mornstein taking his usual position on the balcony rail. The ball had past, but they continued. Mornstein's mother watched as her son grew more intent on marrying this girl. She had talked to her. Her name was Azura. They were soon married and had their firstborn, a son named Alexander. Mornstein would make sure he grew in the Meridian customs and traditions to be a fair king.

Now, Mornstein was a proud father of three princes, had a lovely wife, and had been ruling over the Meridian kingdom for eleven years now. Oh how quick time passed by since his coronation. But he was a happy man. He loved Meridia with all his heart, how a fair and just king should be. Never was he cruel to the Meridian people. And the Meridian people in turn, were respectful citizens.

There was a knock at the door.

"My Lord. D'Artagnan is here to see you"


End file.
